Page 116 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
I saw them together and the worst conclusion formed in me. I threw myself into hating her with everything I had.
And the cruellest part of it?
My fury was less about his death than about the betrayal I imagined, the idea that she’d chosen him over me cut deeper than the corpse at my feet.
I rang father. He asked no questions, perhaps he already understood. Perhaps, in the private parts of himself, he considered it inevitable.
My hands clamp the wheel until the leather protests. The speedometer needle is well past the limit and rain lashes the windscreen.
Rounding the bend, flashes of blue and red bloom up ahead, sirens keening, tearing through the night.
I curse under my breath, another delay. I have to reach her before she takes the ferry.
But as I draw closer I spot a car with St. Monarché plates.
No.
My chest tightens until it feels as if something inside me tears.
I stamp the brake, the tyres shriek and the car fishtails, listing sideways. I’m out before the engine dies, the door slamming behind me as my boots hit the slick road.
I’m running.
Someone shouts to stay back, I ignore them and keep going.
“Sir, you can’t—” an officer steps forward.
“Move,” I say, clipped.
“Sir, it’s an accident scene, you can’t—”
I cut him off. “Have you ever heard the name Vass?”
He swallows and nods, his eyes widening.
“Good. Now move. One more second and I’ll make sure you never badge up again.”
He hesitates, then moves aside. “Mr Vass, I—”
By then I’m already past him.
The scene is chaos, flashing lights, the smell of smoke and scorched rubber.
One car lies on its side on the roadside verge, the other sits in the road, its nose caved in and its driver still slumped at the wheel.
From the gouges and skid marks it’s obvious what happened, some idiot tried a reckless overtake, clipped her line and forced her to swerve.
He will pay for this.
He. Will. Fucking. Pay.
I look back at the car that contains my whole world in it.
Two paramedics kneel at its side, one crouched by the door, the other half inside the upended vehicle.
As I push forward I see her, hair caught in splintered glass, blood running from her temple and her lip.
My legs nearly give way.
